In the Barren Ground Read Online Free Page A

learned the hard way, was lucky to still have a job, but had lost everything else.
    She whistled for her dogs, flicked off the upstairs lights, and started down the wooden steps to what served as the police station.
    She opened the outside door and let out her dogs. While they did their business, she filled their water bowls, and grabbed her to-go backpack, which included survival gear. She selected a rifle, shotgun, and ammunition from the gun room plus bear bangers, air horn, flares. Mentally she ran through her checklist while pulling snow pants over her uniform and stuffing her arms into her fur-ruffed down jacket. Donning her lined boots and regulation muskrat hat with warm earflaps, she snagged her gloves off the side table. She opened the door to call for her dogs. They came bounding in, fur cold to the touch.
    Before leaving, she called the RCMP operational communications center in Yellowknife, reported the attack, gave coordinates, and requested a coroner’s team. Twin Rivers was connected to the outside world via a North-Tel satellite communications system. A large dish in the communications enclosure outside received satellite signals that were then converted and relayed to a small cell tower, which in turn broadcast to a tiny cellular network in town. Outgoing calls operated in reverse. Internet, television, and radio signals were transmitted the same way. However, their local network remained only as good as a clear line of sight from the dish to satellites in orbit. Heavy snow, seriously foul weather, technical malfunction could all knock them off-grid entirely.
    “Be good now, boys,” she said, giving each one a ruffle and a kiss. “When Rosalie comes in she’ll feed and walk you, okay?”
    Hurriedly, she gathered her gear, clicked off the lights, and locked up behind her.
    When she’d arrived in Twin Rivers they’d given her a tiny log cabin closer to the river, which she’d really liked, but when it became apparent that she’d have to man the fort herself until reserves arrived, she, Toyon, and Maximus had moved into the apartment above the station usually reserved for the station commander.
    Outside the air was brittle. High clouds obliterated the stars. It was minus eleven Celsius. She fired up the truck, loaded her gear, and headed for Jankoski’s cabin on the outskirts of what passed for town. Her wheels crunched through the frozen snow crust, headlights poking twin yellow beams into the blackness.

CHAPTER 3
    “Jankoski,” Tana yelled as she banged on his door with the base of her gloved fist. No answer. She banged again, louder. “Jankoski!” A dog barked somewhere.
    Tana tried the door. It was unlocked. She creaked it open, stepped inside. The place was hot, reeked of stale booze. She flicked on the living room light. And there he lay, passed out on the sofa. Shirtless, hair mussed. A day or two’s worth of growth on his face.
    Two whiskey bottles on the floor. One empty.
    She swore. “Wake up, you loser.” She prodded him with her snow boot. He cracked open an eye. It took him a moment to pull her into focus. “Tana, hey, whassup?”
    “You’re shit-faced.” She kicked at the empty bottle, sending it spinning across the wood floor. Fury rode her hard. Memories, bad ones, reared ugly heads. “No bloody respect for yourself, you know that? Or the job. You’re supposed to be on fucking standby. We got a call.”
    He struggled into a sitting position. His skin was slick with sweat. He stank. Tana winced as her stomach did a dangerous little lurch.
    “What call?” he said.
    “Fucking loser,” she muttered as she stormed toward the door.
    “Wait!” He scrambled to his feet, swayed, and grabbed for the back of a chair. “I can handle it. I’m coming—”
    “Like hell you are.” She slammed his cabin door shut in his face, stomped down the wood stairs, and climbed into her idling truck. The cabin door was flung open behind her. “Tana!” he called into the night. “It’s a